An environmental group that tested drinking water in the city of Atlanta found it contains hexavalent chromium, a chemical that the National Institutes of Health has described as a “probable carcinogen.”

The Washington-based Environmental Working Group said in a study released Monday that the level of the chemical in Atlanta’s water ranks 13th-highest among water systems it tested last spring in 35 U.S cities.

But water officials in Atlanta and metro Atlanta said Monday that the level of the chemical found in the city’s drinking water, .20 parts per billion, is well below the 100 parts per billion of “total chromium” in the water that the Environmental Protection Agency considers safe to drink.

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/12/22/city-of-atlanta-water-contains-probable-cancer-causing-chemical/feed/3Gwinnett, your genius is showing!http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/08/27/5003/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/08/27/5003/#commentsFri, 27 Aug 2010 19:18:43 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=5003If this was on The Onion, I’d laugh. But it’s on the AJC.

Next summer, commuting will change for thousands of I-85 drivers in Gwinnett County.

For the first time in Georgia, an interstate lane will have a toll, and the computerized price will change moment by moment, rising when congestion in the main lanes rises.

It’s good news if you’re a solo driver willing to pay to get to an appointment a little faster.

But it’s bad news if you’re in a two-person car pool used to a free HOV lane, because you’ll be paying a toll, too.

In a couple of weeks, state Department of Transportation contractors intend to start closing parts of I-85 to construct an electronic toll in the HOV lane. The toll is to run from just south of Spaghetti Junction in DeKalb County to Old Peachtree Road in Gwinnett County.

If state officials have their way, it’s the first leg of a metrowide network of such lanes.

It is a huge innovation in transportation, one of just a handful of such projects nationwide. On the flip side of that coin, it’s an experiment. State officials readily admit they don’t know if it will work. And can drivers figure it out? The AJC got a look at the freshly designed road signs. Some of them may hinder more than help, judging by the reaction of drivers interviewed this week.

On Wednesday and Thursday, the DOT is holding events to launch the lane’s construction. A public meeting is from 4 to 7 p.m. Wednesday at the Gwinnett Center.

HOV toll lanes — now called “express lanes” — have advocates. They marvel that even in metro Atlanta, even at rush hour, a driver who is willing to pay will be able to find free-flowing highway traffic.

“I think that’s pretty cool,” said Darryl Harden, a Norcross plumber who drives a lot for his work. “If I can get in that — hey, I’ll go for it.”

And the concept has detractors.

“The taxpayers have already paid for this” HOV lane, said Sabrina Smith, chairwoman of Gwinnett Citizens for Responsible Government. She was concerned that more tax dollars are being invested simply to force out taxpaying two-person car pools. “That’s what’s frustrating for people who play by the rules and try to do the right thing.”

Others note that the reliable traffic flow relies on keeping out people who can’t afford the toll.

Express lane drivers tend to have higher incomes than average, but advocates say the lanes are valuable for working-class parents late to pick up a child from day care.

The lanes may or may not make money. A traffic and revenue study done for the state predicts the lanes may bring in from $3 million to $7 million the first year, and several times more in years after that. But officials say the point is to create one place on the highways where rush-hour traffic is reliably mobile.

There are no reliable examples to show what exactly the effect on the regular lanes will be, experts at a conference here said earlier this year. On the one hand, the toll lane might move more cars, if the toll lane moves faster than the HOV lane. On the other hand, whenever government builds a new road project, people make trips they’ve been putting off, adding to the traffic.

It started with a 5:00 am phone call: “Hey, where are you?”
– “In bed, dude. Where the fuck do you think I am?”
– “Well, they haven’t blocked off the roads yet, if you want to drive up, I’m parked at the shopping center at Peachtree Battle.”
– “…Shit. Okay. Give me 30 minutes.”

I call another friend while brushing my teeth at the same time. I throw on clothes and run out to my car, not even remembering the last time I was awake before the sun (unless I hadn’t bothered going to bed in the first place). I drive to Buckhead and meet up with my friend, literally pulling off Peachtree as an officer steps into the intersection and starts setting up barriers. Well, guess I can’t move my car now, even if I want to.

By 7:00 am, my friend and I have walked up to the intersection of Peachtree and Pharr Road, where there are at least 15 other people who got there before we did. They are already cracking open beers. It’s gonna be a long day.

Finally, the race began! After the lead group blew past us (recalling the Road Runner being chased by Wil E. Coyote), we stumbled off down the road. Along the way we would take detours behind bars and into empty parking lots for the drinking of beer.

Also we would purposely stop at red lights, much to the annoyance of everybody stuck behind us. (Look– if we have been walking and stopping to drink beer every 2 miles, and you are JUST NOW passing us, I don’t understand why you are concerned about your race time.)

By the time we got to Piedmont Park, everyone else had long finished the race and gone home.

Also by this time my feet hurt (after walking a 10k in flip-flops… probably a bad decision), I had a headache, I was out of cigarettes, and my pores were leaking PBR and Red Bull. I wanted to go immediately to sleep; do not pass go, do not collect $200. Surely the day had to be almost over. I looked at my phone: Noon.

Aw, hell.

The only fireworks I managed to see were on the way back to my house, courtesy of some kids standing on the curb around Boulevard and Ponce; I initially thought it was gunshots and almost swerved into a light pole.

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/07/06/my-peachtree-road-race/feed/1BP: Beyond Pissedhttp://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/06/13/bp-beyond-pissed/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/06/13/bp-beyond-pissed/#commentsSun, 13 Jun 2010 19:45:12 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=4820Cross-posted from my blog, because I haven’t written anything in a while.

This BP oil leak debacle has broken my heart more than a lot of events in the last decade. For example, as bad as it sounds, I was very detached from 9/11, because at the time I had never even been to New York; I may as well have been watching a movie. Same with Hurricane Katrina; back then, to me New Orleans only existed in theory. But watching this is like being kicked in the stomach. The Gulf coast is like a second home to me. I was born in Tallahassee, FL, and grew up close to it; from the time I was a baby I spent every summer on the Florida panhandle. They are not the prettiest nor the most glamorous beaches in the country (in fact, Panama City is referred to as “the redneck Riviera”) and most people treat the coastal South with the kind of disdain reserved for the most backwater, podunk, culturally and economically stunted parts of the US. On the other hand, in my eyes the Gulf coast is absolutely beautiful, and has a special place in my heart– which is why this whole event is so painful to watch.

The green is Google maps’ tracking of where oil in the water has been reported. The star is Mexico Beach, where my family would always spend a few weeks every summer. When I was growing up, we’d find tar balls on the beach all the time, but they were always small (maybe at most 2 inches in diameter) and hard like rocks. Meanwhile, I have seen some still and video footage of the tar balls pulled out of the water near Pensacola in the last couple of days.

It makes me think of:

But seriously, y’all. Pensacola is only about 130 miles from Mexico Beach. How much longer before the entire panhandle is affected? I always thought that maybe when I’m old I would find a bungalow on some deserted stretch of sand along the Gulf, where I could spend my twilight years sunbathing, listening to the waves, and avoiding cold winters. Now I have to wonder what these beaches will look like when I’m in my 70’s. In four decades’ time, perhaps through human effort and the earth’s natural method of recycling, the oceans, estuaries, and bayous will have returned to something resembling “normal”– Conversely, in 40 years this planet may be so polluted to the point where this mess looks about as serious as a grease spot in your garage.

A lot of my friends have been supporting the “boycott BP” campaigns floating around, and while their hearts are in the right place, I don’t think simply avoiding BP gas stations is going to make much of an impact, especially when every other oil company has an equally bad track record of human rights violations and environmental destruction. I would love to simply stop buying gas altogether, but even if I could feasibly get around without a car (which is very difficult to do in the South)… Everything nowadays is made with some kind of petroleum byproduct. Everything. Plastic? Good luck boycotting that. I think the real issue here isn’t the oil spilling, but the fact that our society is so heavily based around oil to begin with.

I don’t think most Americans are going to be as outraged about this for the same reasons I did not have an emotional reaction to 9/11 or Katrina… This clusterfuck is not taking place in their backyard. I can’t honestly be too surprised if most people just don’t care. But for those of us who grew up in the coastal South, it’s like someone is taking a shit on our front lawn.

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/06/13/bp-beyond-pissed/feed/4“A drinking club with a running problem”http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/05/19/a-drinking-club-with-a-running-problem/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/05/19/a-drinking-club-with-a-running-problem/#commentsWed, 19 May 2010 23:39:51 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=4746So, I’d like to introduce y’all to a new hobby of mine. (Well, relatively new-ish… I’ve been at it for about a year.)

To begin: Despite my good looks and stunning personality (and clear penchant for sarcasm) I have a hard time making friends. I’ve been in Atlanta for four years and have pretty well established my social circle. Well, it’s more like a nebula, but it’s a fairly tight-knit one. Thus, I’d been looking for some kind of activity that would facilitate expanding said nebula. For a while I tried playing kickball, but it brought up too many bad memories from grade school. I’m just not a competitive person. Even though my teammates assured me it did not matter that I was too short to catch the ball in the outfield, not fast enough to catch the ball in the infield, and not coordinated enough to even kick the ball anywhere not out of bounds, that I was still a valued member of the team. Be that as it may; if I’m failing miserably, I’m not having fun.

So, after giving up on kickball, the gentleman I had begun dating asked me if I’d ever heard of hashing. I had, once, several years ago. It was described to me as “running and drinking” which I envisioned as competitive racing while chugging beer at the same time. Needless to say, it sounded like at best a terrible idea… at worst a one-way ticket to the hospital. I soon came to find out that it is nothing like this– but first, a test.

Please gauge your reaction to the following photo:

Is it closer to…
A. Say no more. Where do I sign up?
B. Ummm… might be fun, but I paid $100 for my running shoes…
C. Gross!

If you chose A, then you would probably make a good hasher.

The group to which I belong is officially known as the Hash House Harriers. Hashing basically consists of one or two people (“hares”) laying a trail through the woods (or, sometimes, urban jungle) and everyone else following the trail, with the intention of either catching the hares, or simply making it to the end with life and limb intact. At the end of the trail, to reward the pack’s efforts, there is the drinking of beer and the singing of lewd songs, along with a little good-natured hazing. Oh, and everybody eventually gets a nickname, which is bestowed after saying or doing something particularly memorable. Your hash name may or may not be something appropriate to tell children, the elderly, or your parents.

So really, hashing is pretty simple: It’s not a race. (Racist behavior is in fact frowned upon.) It’s not a drinking competition. It’s a chance to be outside, get some physical activity, meet people, and drink beer. Alcohol is also a great social lubricant, so it serves a dual purpose. And yes, for you teetotalers, there are non-alcoholic options too… but then it’s just running. ;) The only “catch” is you pay a very small fee (usually under $10) to cover the beverages. I’ve been unemployed since I started, so if I can afford it, so can you! The best part is I have met so many awesome folks, not only in Atlanta but in other cities as well. It seems that hashers are not so much strangers as they are friends you just haven’t met yet. Refreshingly, there is a very low if not non-existent douchebag factor, unlike what I encountered in kickball. (People who take themselves too seriously don’t become hashers, for obvious reasons.) I rarely meet a hasher I don’t like.

Hashing in Atlanta is interesting. It’s amazing how you don’t have to drive very far to end up in the sho’ nuff middle of nowhere. (Run faster, I hear banjos.) Sure, there are trails in varying degrees of difficulty, but my favorites are the ones where you end up tired and dirty by the end. Usually 4-6 miles, avoiding pavement as much as possible. I’ve waded through waist-deep swamp water, jumped through sticker bushes that make razor-wire look soft and cuddly, climbed fences, been attacked by hornets, and almost shot by hillbillies. Well, I made that last one up, but it could conceivably happen. The whole point is by the end you feel like you deserve a beer. I’ve also been able to explore a lot of the city that I had no idea existed. A trail I ran a few weeks ago followed that unused portion of railroad track behind Piedmont Park and Ansley Golf Course, and ended under Buford Highway / I-85. It was cool as hell!

Really, this whole post is just my blatant attempt at trying to recruit more hash buddies, especially people who will embark upon those particularly off-off-OFF the beaten path trails with me. You should send me an e-mail (atlartist at gmail.com) for more information. ;D

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/05/19/a-drinking-club-with-a-running-problem/feed/3Getting to know Jackhttp://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/03/31/getting-to-know-jack/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/03/31/getting-to-know-jack/#commentsWed, 31 Mar 2010 19:26:09 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=4522Being unemployed, I’m always searching for a way to get out of town that doesn’t involve spending too much money. Funny enough, despite being so close to Tennessee, I never really go there on purpose. I’m always passing through on my way to other states. But I always swore, before I die or move out of the South (whichever happens first) I had to visit the Jack Daniel’s distillery. Kind of like a pilgrimage to Mecca… Except I worship at the altar of booze.

Because I hate being stuck in the car alone, I managed to convince my bartender friend to accompany me, citing the infinite educational value to be attained in learning about the whiskey distillation process. Early one Friday morning, we jumped in my car to make our journey to Lynchburg, TN. Now that I was actually paying attention to where I was driving, I realized: Tennessee is beautiful! Especially once you turn off the interstate for the final leg of the journey, traveling along winding country roads through dense forests and rolling hills. A blanket of fog lent the appearance of an impressionist painting with its hazy, muted colors.

Before making our way to the distillery, we made a pit stop at a liquor store. Know before you go: In a cruel twist of irony, the distillery is located in a dry county. You can buy commemorative bottles of Jack on site at the distillery, but there is nowhere in town to actually go get your drank on. However, on the bright side– the tour is 100% free. What surprised me was how far some of the other folks had come for this tour; California, Florida, even Canada… My friend and I had driven the shortest distance, and that was 3 hours!

The whole tour took about 90 minutes; it was extremely entertaining, despite the fact that we were not allowed to take photos of the most interesting parts (to keep some things a mystery, I reckon). By the end my brain was flooded with facts and trivia: For example, did you know Jack Daniel was only 5’2″? That’s my size!

(This statue was clearly modified to make Jack taller…)

At the end of the tour, we were given lemonade, which quickly became Lynchburg Lemonade after my friend busted out his flask full of JD Single Barrel. Hey– dry county or not– Jack would approve, and you know it.

Afterwards we drove into “downtown” Lynchburg… This is clearly an area that would dry up and blow away if not for the blessing of tourism. Every store in the town square was packed to the gills with Jack Daniels merchandise. If you can think of an item, it probably had the JD logo emblazoned on it: clothing, pool tables, dart boards, golf clubs, patio furniture, bar stools, barbecue grills, light switch covers…

And, of course:

Belt buckles! (In true redneck fashion, I have a collection.)

Next time you want to leave Atlanta, but don’t feel like venturing too far, get thee to Lynchburg!

I can think of no better way to spend a glorious February afternoon than beating the crap out of 50 strangers in the park. Apparently there is a “National Pillow Fight Day” in April. Word is it’s going to be in Freedom Park… I’ll try to get the details for y’all who missed this one!

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/03/01/pillowfight-in-piedmont-park/feed/4Winter Beer Carnivalhttp://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/02/28/winter-beer-carnival/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/02/28/winter-beer-carnival/#commentsSun, 28 Feb 2010 15:37:45 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=4312 My motto in life usually goes something like: “Candy is dandy, liquor is quicker, but beer is near.” I feel like maybe I should establish myself as the designated drunk blogger. (I’m not an alcoholic; they go to meetings!)

Yesterday I attended the first annual Winter Beer Carnival. In my (not so) humble opinion, winter may in fact be one of the best times to drink beer, because it’s less easy to get dehydrated when you’re not actively sweating, which here in Atlanta we usually are doing at least 7 months of the year. Plus, the beer makes you feel warm!

So, if you weren’t there, it was held over at the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, over in west midtown near Tech. i.e. ~In the ghettoooo~ I’m surprised so many clean-cut surburbanites even showed up. I guess it’s proof that people will take risks for beer. (Hey, coming ITP is a risk for a lot of people.) I thought having the event half-indoors and half-outdoors was a smart move; the weather was nice so I didn’t mind being outside, but Atlanta’s winter climate is a strange beast. There was a chance it could have been 30 degrees and raining. My only real complaint about the location dealt with acoustics; the building has high ceilings and concrete floors, so with hundreds of people inside making noise, the roar was quite deafening. Also, outside on the patio, the music WAS SO LOUD I HAD TO TALK LIKE THIS THE ENTIRE TIME. Seriously, there’s a difference between providing ambient noise and blowing out people’s eardrums.

My friend bought me a VIP ticket, which is an option I always like to exercise at beer festivals. All the good shit hides in the VIP area. The beer selection was not quite as amazing as Hotoberfest’s, but not as disappointing as East Atlanta Beer Fest. I say disappointing only because I go to beer festivals to hopefully sample new things. Granted, our fair state does have some WEIRD laws which prevent a lot of really good beer from being brought here. But I don’t go to beer festivals to drink Sweetwater, Abita, Terrapin, etc. Don’t get me wrong– I love all of these beers, but I can also buy them any day of the week (well, except for Sunday) at the Stab-n-Grab on Boulevard. Especially if I’m paying X amount for a ticket to some shindig, I want to feel like I’m getting my money’s worth. Thus, I found the Winter Beer Carnival’s selection to be adequate; a decent mix of new and familiar. If you go to beer festivals simply to get hammered, it probably won’t make a difference.

I ate beforehand, so I didn’t get to sample any of the food. And I didn’t get drunk enough to play any carnival games, although the life-size “Operation” board was freakin’ hilarious. I noticed the “prizes” seemed to manifest mainly in the form of Mardi Gras beads. See, I actually went to Mardi Gras in New Orleans three weeks ago, and I more or less have beads coming out my ass at this point. (Hey, some people pay good money for that.) Suffice to say the idea of bringing home more beads didn’t thrill me. I hope for better prizes next year; maybe something beer-related. At the very least, not beads.

]]>http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/02/28/winter-beer-carnival/feed/3I wrote some haikuhttp://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/02/08/i-wrote-some-haiku/
http://atlanta.metblogs.com/2010/02/08/i-wrote-some-haiku/#commentsMon, 08 Feb 2010 05:43:19 +0000http://atlanta.metblogs.com/?p=4167These are about Atlanta.

*ahem*

white flakes in my hair
falling gently from the sky
cigarette ashes

rain, rain, go away
come again another day
wait, I was kidding

slow and steady race
like turtles crawling to sea
hello traffic jam

This one is about South Georgia, probably not amusing unless you’ve been there. Or have lived there.

springtime mating dance
soulmates for life meet an end
lovebugs on my car

And this one is about tonight.

long night at the Earl
drank many shots of strega
dude, where is my car?